The Light Elfs Those Who Elf Themselves
by His Excellency TeenageAngst
Summary: The paladin Jack "Radical" Abrams visits Silvermoon City to teach the Blood Elves a thing or two about the Light. Along the way he uncovers a terrible secret. Jump to part 2 for waggle.
1. Chapter 1

It was early in the morning as I approached the gates of Silvermoon City. The place was finally open to the outside after years of engagements between the battered elves and the Scourge. Although they were leaning their alignment towards the Horde at this point, hating both humans and the Knights of the Silver Hand after the crap we pulled during the Third War, the elven paladins were apparently in a bit of a crisis. Their faith in the Light had waned and for a time they lost control over its power. Since their victory repelling the undead they sought to regain it through new guidance.

Now normally I would resist going to elven lands of any type but this took it to a whole different level. I was walking right into the maw of all that is evil in this world. Magic elves of privilege, filled with self-righteous hatred of humans and the Alliance, and they were soon to be welcoming Horde emissaries. As I stood by the gates I felt a headache creeping up on me. My hand glided over the handle of my hammer in anticipation.

Although I knew my value to the Silver Hand was paltry I didn't think they'd send me on an outright suicide mission. Indeed, these Blood Elves as they called themselves came to us. Their choice in sending me wasn't entirely misguided either, as I wasn't officially aligned with the Alliance and I'd had experience working with the Horde in the past. Still, I got the feeling I was being hung out to dry again, just like Azuremyst. All the other Knights saw me as that guy. You know the one. You're off doing the good work of the Light and then oh here comes Sir Abrams, hung over and smelling like the Lion's Pride Inn again. What an upstanding member he turned out to be. Well, I always said you can't spread the Light if you never go in the shadows. And it just so happens the shadows I choose have beer and hookers. But I digress.

Even though I was an, eh-hem, "official consultant", I needed an escort while in the city to make sure I wasn't going to cause any mischief. I was also to report back to the Knights what these elves have been doing since their self-appointed exile. While I waited for the escort to arrive I was eyed over by two elegantly adorned city guards. These guys made the Draenei look modest, I'd never seen such lavish uniforms. They weren't gaudy like the Draenei either. The elves had a unique sense of style. Too rich for my blood though. I was proud of my armor, simple as it was. Sure it was mismatched and repaired half a dozen times over, but I'd earned every piece of it. At last the gates opened and I was allowed to walk inside. The city was magnificent, spires of marble and gorgeous hedgerows tended to by magical tools. The streets were pristine and polished white with enormous mana crystals lining the walls. My eyes feasted on this wondrous place as we moved towards the Royal Exchange.

A young elven woman walked towards me, her plate armor a dark polished steel with red accents. She carried a kite shield on her back and a glistening magical blade on her waist. With a quick salute she said, "Bal'a dash, malanore. Welcome to Silvermoon City."

I saluted her back, "The pleasure is all mine, miss..?"

"Blood Knight Lysandra Dawnsworn," she said, standing at ease, "I take it you are Sir Abrams?"

"Yeah," I said, "But you can call me Jack. Jack Radical."

"You must be joking," she replied. The look on her face could have stopped a kodo. I knew it wouldn't go over well, but that was the point, wasn't it? Goddamn elves take themselves too seriously.

Ignoring her incredulity, I said, "So, I assume everything is ready for me to begin my lecture?"

"Not quite," Lysandra said, still not entirely over my imposition, "The initiates and our other Knights are still gathering. In the meantime, I will show you to your quarters."

"Very well," I replied. She waved away the city guards who had been shadowing me as I followed her. Along the way I got to take in more of the city, its magnificent splendor radiating a magical aura I couldn't quite describe. It wasn't like the Draenei's which was pure Light, but it also wasn't like Dalaran, the city of mages and arcane magic. This was slightly thicker, heavier. The Light here was golden and sweet, I could feel its warmth all over like honey. And yet, something still seemed off. I shook the feeling as we entered the exchange. Throngs of elves bustled between the overflowing auction house and the various shops lining the streets. Everyone was far too busy to notice a human in their midst. Although I did catch a few curious looks, they were mostly aimed at my strange armor.

Eventually we arrived at the Silvermoon City Inn, a large and comfortable place that looked several pay grades above what I was qualified for. At first I thought this must be some kind of mistake, but Lysandra lead me up the stairs and down a hall to the far room. Taking a key from her pouch, she opened the door and handed it to me. I was used to dormitory living at the Cathedal or in Stormwind Keep. On the road I considered a tent or a cot to be a luxury. This, this was heaven compared to that. A real bed, large enough for three adults, draped with curtains and made up with silken sheets. The couch against the wall was velvet, with warm tea and a smoking hookah waiting on the table. The bay window overlooked the exchange, letting all the sounds and scents in.

"I hope your accommodations are adequate," Lysandra said to me, still standing in the doorway.

"This is uh, there has to be some mistake," I replied. "Is this really my room?"

"We were going to get you in the master guestroom but unfortunately it was booked for the next four months. However, we can see if the Wayfarer's Rest has theirs available."

"No, no, this is, um, adequate," I said. I realized if I wanted to command the respect of these elves I couldn't come in looking and sounding like some kind of bumpkin. "I will need an hour to freshen up from my trip, have the Blood Knights ready by the time I'm done."

"Understood, Sir." With that, Lysandra left me alone in this magnificent room. It all looked so amazing, I didn't know what to try first. Then I spotted the wash basin in the corner. I drew some warm water. Heh, running hot and cold water, that was a neat trick. Stripping my clothes I got in, a cup of tea in one hand and a hookah pipe in the other. Light bless the Silver Hand for sending me here. The magical brushes beside the wash basin sprung into action, sudsing up and scrubbing me clean as I relaxed. I took a sip of the tea, a delicious pumpkin brew with some elven spices mixed in. It smelled just like the lather the brushes scrubbed me with. I took a hit of the hookah and… more pumpkin spice? Huh, it was in season but still. I was always partial to apple butter myself. It just gives such a warm feeling to walk into a home smelling like apple butter, maybe with some cider in the cellar in maple casks, now that was a staple of the Stormwind countryside.

It is a little known fact that paladins are fond of home and garden aesthetics.

I sat in that bath for over half an hour, sipping tea, smoking hookah, and pretending I owned the place. This was dangerous, they were buttering me up for something and paladin or not I'm a man of vices. I was going to get eaten alive if I wasn't careful. Setting everything down, I got out, dried off, and dressed myself again. Before dawning my armor I decided a quick shave was in order, which with the blade provided by the elves, got me looking clean and dare I even say handsome. The occasional facial scar just made me look that much more rugged. I checked the time, Lysandra would be expecting me soon. Putting my armor on I walked down to the lobby and sent for her.

The Blood Knight was punctual, arriving with a pair of initiates in tow. "Sir Abrams-" she said.

"Yeah, that's not my name," I quipped.

"What are you talking ab-no."

I sat in my chair, looking at her expectantly. The elven initiates seemed curious.

Her face fell into a pained expression. "Okay, Jack Radical."

"Yes?"

"You called for me."

"No I didn't," I said, grinning ear to ear.

"Yes, you did."

"Yeah, well, that's your opinion."

The Blood Knight was about to snap, her jaw locked as she held her face in her hands. "Follow me to the Bazaar, JACK. RADICAL." She spat through gritted teeth.

I stood up, still smiling, and clapped her on the shoulder, "You have to learn to take it easy." She glared at me. "Lesson one, Blood Knight, patience." Lysandra's brow furrowed as she realized she was just thrown a ringer. The initiates smirked at their instructor who remained silent in her humiliation. Nothing like taking a self important elf down a peg in front of her own students. I turned to the initiates, "Remember, mastery of the Light's gifts is as much an act of passion as it is of devotion. Patience, reverence, and diligence will often reveal just as much as divine inspiration."

The two young elves look at me, nodding in understanding, while Lysandra's expression changed from indignation to guilt. Nailed it. "Anyway, let's get moving," I said.

Lysandra lead me towards the Bazaar in silence, the two initiates whispering to each other behind us. When I arrived at the field, a few dozen Knights were lined up in formation with at least fifty initiates gathered in behind them. A small stage was set for my lecture with everyone watching expectantly. I pulled my notes out; the Silver Hand had given me what material it wanted me to share with the elves. It couldn't risk having me going in there embarrassing them, and if I made a good impression, it might soften the elven image of Silver Hand and by extension the Alliance.

My lecture lasted a couple hours, covering the basics of what it meant to be a paladin. I reviewed the tenets of the paladin's code, the principles that guided our actions, and our librams. Lysandra stood near my podium and I noticed her listening rather intently. Questions afterwords were actually sparse, I got the feeling these elves didn't appreciate being taught by a human in their own land. And yet they called me out there in the first place, strange. Either way I finished by the early afternoon, so we left for dinner before continuing the training in the Farstrider's Square.

This time it was the military portion with sparring partners and instruction provided by one of the elven veterans. I was paired with an initiate too green to properly spar me, whether as an insult or an honest mistake I wasn't sure, but knowing the elves I just assumed the former. Every blow I was afraid I was going to send the poor kid flying, he couldn't even parry properly. What were these elves teaching anyway? He did have an impressive command of the Light for his skill level though, I had to give him that. He would serve well as a healer perhaps.

After the military drills the Blood Knights were dismissed. I returned to the inn with Lysandra, my armor not so much as chinked by the initiate. The streets were quieter as dusk fell so I was actually able to speak with her. She looked quite a bit different from when we met earlier that morning, more thoughtful and less up tight.

"Something on your mind?" I asked.

"I was considering what you said during your lecture," she said. "That portion about self sacrifice for the good of others. How exactly do you interpret that?"

I thought about it for a while, remembering all the times I'd bent that rule to mean whatever the hell I wanted. I also remembered fighting the sea serpent in the Blackfathom Deeps, and Samara with the Draenei. "I couldn't tell you," I said at last.

"I mean, it's not just giving everything you own over to whoever asks for it, right?" she said sarcastically.

"Oh no, nothing like that," I replied, "What I mean is, it's kind of something you realize. There'll be a time when you just know if you don't do something then others are going to suffer. And it's not a choice, you just do it. It's a part of who you are."

"I still don't get it."

Yeah, I bet you don't, elf. "It'll come to you eventually."

"I hope not," she replied, "I always say, the code says to be lawfully good, not lawfully stupid."

"True enough," I said. Man, this was starting to ring a bell.

We approached the inn and stepped inside. Lysandra took a seat on one of the plush chairs as coffee was brought out to us. I took a cup that was offered by one of the barmaids. "Your combat form is rather impressive," she said as I sat down, "Though I've always considered the hammer to be a brutish weapon."

"It gets the job done," I replied, sipping my drink. More pumpkin spice? What was up with these elves?

"I always preferred a well balanced blade," she said, "it makes parrying so much easier, you have more command over the opponent's moves."

"It's a matter of opinion," I replied, putting my cup down. "The advantage of the hammer is it doesn't matter what armor the opponent is wearing. All your force goes through, and if your strike is true, you'll shatter their defenses."

"But it lacks grace, it lacks form and dignity," she insisted.

"Let me put it to you this way," I said, "Almost all my opponents have wielded swords or glaives or some other 'graceful' weapon, and they left me with some scars." Lysandra nodded, eyeing a few on my face. "But," I said, "Which one of us walked away from the fight?"

"Duly noted," she said, pouring herself another cup of coffee already, "Have you seen a lot of combat?"

"Yeah, comes with being a mercenary," I said.

"Wait," she looked shocked, "You're a mercenary?!"

"The technical term I believe is 'knight errant' but I take contracts for payment."

"The Silver Hand sent a *mercenary* to help us?" She looked slightly disgusted.

"Relax," I said, "I've got more than ten years experience in this outfit, I was raised by elves, and I've dealt with the Horde more than half the people in this city. I have my qualified ducks in a row."

"I see," she said skeptically.

"Besides, I still wield the Light better than your Knights," I added.

"Do you now? You must not have seen our veterans sparring," she said with pride, "Their use of the Light in combat is something to behold."

"Fantastic!" I said, getting up, "Then you must not need my consultation. Such a shame, I was looking forward to spending the night, but I should probably be going." There was something fishy going on and I needed to goad it out of her.

"Oh, no, please!" she said, jumping out of her seat, "I uh, didn't mean it like that. We still need your assistance, just more in, um, guidance."

"Ah, alright," I said, sitting back down, "perhaps you'd like to tell me then what specifically it is the Blood Elves hope to gain from my presence? As far as I can tell, even your initiates had the wielding of Light magic down pat."

"It's more than just wielding the Light," she said, "The Light is more fickle than our arcane magics, we're not used to using it in this capacity after so long."

"Well, venerating the Light is the first step to controlling it," I said, "But that depends on the individual, it's not so much taught as understood and felt."

"You seem to understand it," she said, leaning forward, "Perhaps we could just keep an eye on you."

"I'm not the best role model," I said to her, "but I suppose."

"A close eye." A grin swept across her face as her emerald eyes locked mine. Oh, I knew where this was going. She didn't just want me to stand around and look pretty. This chick wanted a one way ticket to ride the pony snake all the way to pound town. That's slang for fornication.

"How close an eye?" I asked coyly.

She took a sip of her coffee and placed the cup on the table between us, the locks of her blonde hair falling in front of her face as she bent over. Gracefully she swept them behind her long ear, revealing sly, hungry eyes, a bat of her long lashes, and a bottom lip just barely being nibbled. That last bit, it gets me every time. "Close enough," she said, "to make sure we don't miss any of your talents."

I finished my drink and set the cup aside, "Well, you'll have to be attentive then."

She smiled and leaned back, crossing her legs. I don't know how elven armor does it, but somehow nothing was left to the imagination. This girl had one fantastic pair of legs, and with her arms spread across the back of the chair, I could see every curve of her chest. "Sir Abrams," she said, "I am a very astute learner."

I stood up and she stretched her hand out. I took hers as she got up, pressing her body against mine. I could feel her arm wrap around the small of my back as we walked towards the stairs. When we got to my room, she removed the key from my pocket, grabbing a little something extra as she did. Mm, this girl should have been a rogue. She let me in and I took the key from her. Then I wheeled around and stood in the doorway, blocking her with my arms.

Lysandra chucked, "What are you doing?"

I smiled that sly dog smile I'd perfected in lazy evenings in the Blue Recluse tavern, "Come see me when you've learned my name, toots."

Her expression dropped as I shut and locked the door. Still smiling, I listened to her trudge back down the hall. So much for being an astute learner, she couldn't even remember a name. I spent the better portion of the evening reading my libram by the streetlamp light before turning in.

The next morning brought with it another lecture. This time I spent a good while discussing the role of faith in the Light. This pricked quite a few elongated ears, as faith is what facilitated control. By the power of one's belief, the Light itself becomes manifest and the strength of your conviction guides it. The elves asked many questions, mostly relating to the nature of this faith. Is it just faith in the Light itself or any faith? What about personal convictions? Then one in particular caught my attention.

"Sir Abrams," a Blood Knight asked towards the front row, "Does the faith need to be in the Light itself, or can any being be used as a proxy?"

This seemed like an elementary question, "Any deity or power can be used so long as your desires are pure. Your estranged kin do this through Elune, the Trolls and Draenei have mastered this using the elemental spirits of Azeroth, even the Forsaken have somehow managed to find something to conjure their faith through."

"So we should be able to do it too?"

I looked at her strangely, "I… don't see why not?"

"I see, thank you," she said, taking a seat.

That question bothered me for the rest of the day. Such a thing should have been theoretical for these elves. They conjured the Light the same way I did, the same way the priests of Stormwind of Ironforge did, through faith alone. And yet, she treated it as a practical matter. Blood Elves had no shamen and no druids, why would that even come up? There was writing on the wall but I couldn't read it yet. It was probably written in Thalassian.

The combat session that afternoon was much like the previous one. Once again I was paired with an initiate, and once again they were slow, awkward, and inexperienced. Like my ex-wife in bed. This one however was quite a bit cockier, demanding I "put my back into it" when I came at her. She was a bit more skilled than the previous one, I'll give her that, but these initiates had no instincts. Rudimentary skills weren't enough for real combat, not even for real sparring. Like the other initiate, she too was skilled in the use of the Light, but Lysandra's point became clear whenever she tried to use it too much. Any kind of follow-through with holy magic ended up going awry, it was like she was trying to conjure it as one would arcane magic.

"Surely, this isn't the best the Silver Hand has to offer," she said, swiping at me with her blade.

I countered with a swing of my hammer, the attack glancing off her shield, "Kid, you can't even keep up with me," I shot a kick towards her, "what makes you think you'd stand a chance against the best of our knights?"

"Insolent human MONGREL!" she growled. She came at me furiously, her blade innervated with holy power.

I raised my shield and blocked one, two, three attacks, then lunged forward. Caught off balance, the elf doubled back, shield raised by reflex. I felt the weight in my hammer shift as the holy energy flowed through it; it was time to teach this kid a lesson from the school of hard knocks, hah. It was time I hammered my point home. I was going to teach her a lesson and let her mallet over for a while. Okay, okay. One good strike, in proper form and with plenty of time for a wind-up, sent her flying. I hit her shield dead on and she must have flown at least twenty feet before tumbling head over heels. A loud guffaw escaped me as she stared in shock and disbelief, the dent in her shield still glowing.

Gradually the initiate got to her feet, unbuckling her shield. A small crowd of initiates and knights surrounded us now as she pulled the sleeve on her armor back, revealing a swollen arm. It appeared I'd broken it right through the shield. One of the elves shoved me, "I thought you were here to teach us, not send us to the infirmary."

"This is supposed to just be sparring," another said, "Insolent human."

"Oh keep your panties on," I said, winding up a spell, "we're all healers here." I cast my flash of light on the wounded initiate, mending her arm in moments. It would still be sore for a while but the damage was healed.

I heard a voice behind me, "What's going on here, what the hell did you do?" It was Lysandra.

"He damn near killed me," the initiate said, holding up her still swollen arm. Lysandra looked at me, waiting for a response.

"Someone has to teach these kids how to fight. Besides, like I said, she's fine."

"You sent me flying like a ragdoll!" she said.

"And what did you learn from that?"

"That you're a filthy human dog."

I shook my head in disbelief, this was just great. Lysandra stepped up and smacked her across the face, "Do not insult your superiors, whelp. You are supposed to be a paladin of Silvermoon and here you whimper over flesh wounds." The initiate rubbed her face as she stared at the Blood Knight before her. "Hammers sunder defenses, remember this before you try to hide behind your shield again."

"Y-yes, Sir Dawnsworn!" she said, fumbling while trying to salute.

"Now, back to training, and Sir Abrams, please take it easy on the initiates. I need them in once piece."

"Understood," I replied.

The initiate drew her weapons again, this time much calmer. The remainder of the session was more or less uneventful, but the elves still kept an eye on me. I knew I was on their bad side now but frankly I didn't care. This entire operation stank to high heaven, I just couldn't tell where they were taking me for a ride. The accommodations were marvelous, Lysandra had my back, even the pay was good. And yet something seemed really off. I felt like I was working a Defias contract without all the innuendo. That night I decided to take the long way back to the inn. Lysandra naturally followed me and became suspicious when I didn't immediately head for the Royal Exchange.

"I just feel like taking a walk, seeing some of the city tonight," I said. "It's a beautiful place."

"Alright," she replied. We walked down the road for a bit before she started conversation again, "So why did you decide to clobber one of the initiates this afternoon?"

"I got a little frustrated," I admitted, "But I knew what I was doing."

"Really," she said, "What was all that about patience then?"

I smirked at her, "That was me showing patience. If I was a younger man that kid would have been a smoking crater for a smart-aleck remark like that."

"Oh, that's encouraging," she said, "so you were a homicidal maniac in your youth."

I was going to respond but I noticed our surroundings changing. The gleaming city had slowly been replaced with more disheveled trappings, the buildings becoming less well kept. Small, dense structures created snaking alleyways along the main road. This was quite different from the usual face of Silvermoon. "Where are we?" I asked.

Lysandra looked around, "This is Murder Row."

"Cheery name."

"Don't worry, no one here would dare try anything against a pair of knights. Most of the denizens are useless vagrants or working folk."

The modest homes in various levels of disrepair still looked classy compared to the Dwarven District of Stormwind, let alone its ghetto, but compared to the rest of Silvermoon it was decrepit. I peered down some of the alleyways, spotting people talking or meandering about. As we walked down the road we passed a sleeping elf. His clothing was torn with nothing but a bottle in his hand. He was huddled against the wall, lying on the cold paving stones.

"Disgusting," Lysandra muttered.

I looked at her, then back at the vagrant elf. I'd seen plenty of drunkards and bums in my time, and god knows I didn't bust my ass for half the ones I met. But this guy, next to all this opulence, how did this happen? How could an entire district be written off? I felt compelled to say something as Lysandra lead me on but couldn't think of what. It hit home though, and as we walked further out of Murder Row I could feel the waves of the city's magic wafting over me again. My stomach soured a bit.

After spending some time in silence we approached the inn. I saw a figure standing outside wearing a blood red cloak. It was the initiate I'd whacked earlier. I regarded her as we approached, "What is it, initiate?"

"I wanted to speak with you after our lesson today, Sir Abrams," she said.

"Really?" I said, "I can't believe you'd have anything to say to a mongrel like me."

"I'm sorry about that, sir. I didn't mean it." The young elf hung her head, "My parents died in the Third War. I… it's still a grudge I carry."

Under ordinary circumstances I would be understanding. Certainly if this were an orc or a tauren I could appreciate their strong feelings about associating with a human. But these elves used to be our allies. Besides, they called me here, not the other way around. Bunch of useless sycophantic knife ears. If they couldn't control their racism why should I? I looked down at the elf, she seemed deeply bothered, a mixture of shame and fear on her face. It obviously took a lot for her to apologize, let alone admit the reason for her outburst.

I stifled my bitterness and reached my hand out, "Apology accepted."

She shook it graciously, "Thank you, Sir Abrams."

"Call me Jack," I said.

"I'm Nevaeh," she replied, a smile appearing. "I wanted to ask if you could teach me your techniques with the hammer, that is if Sir Dawnsworn doesn't mind."

"You mean like a private lesson?"

The young elf nodded.

"I suppose that would be alright, after all my scheduled lectures are finished," I said, "What do you say, Lysandra?"

She had an oddly mischievous look on her face, "We'll see. Nevaeh, can I speak with you a moment, please?" Excusing myself, I retreated to my room where I indulged in a bit more hookah. From the open window I could hear the two of them talking below but was unable to make out what they were saying. Tuning them out, I shut the window and drew the curtains. It wasn't ten minutes though before there was a knock at my door.

I opened it to find Lysandra and Nevaeh standing in the hall, the former giving me the same intense look she gave me the night prior, and the latter standing nervously behind her. Not only was this chick persistent, but now she was enlisting help. This tears it, I thought, there's something strange going on here. I'd seen this kind of behavior with the goblins. They flatter the visiting investor or dignitary, throw a few pretty girls their way, show them around town, then work them over with the sales pitch. I still didn't know what these elves were selling but now I was sure I wasn't buying.

Lysandra pressed herself against me, "Jack, we came to an agreement. Nevaeh can study under you," she pulled the initiate forward by the arm, "so long as she's under supervision."

I turned to Nevaeh, "Are you okay with this?"

She nodded, "I'm anxious to learn your… technique." 


	2. Chapter 2

I backed away a few steps, "Before this goes any further I want you to tell me the meaning of all this."

"What are you talking about?" Lysandra said.

"This room, the luxuries, these advances, what is it you really want out of me?"

The two elves looked at each other in confusion, then back at me, "We… want you to feel welcome?"

"What?"

Lysandra stepped forward, "You are our guest and mentor. I was assigned to make sure you were taken care of while in our city. I hoped I was doing a good job."

I was a little taken aback by this, "I'm sorry,but the elven hospitality I'm familiar is much…cooler."

She came closer, putting her hand behind my neck, "We're not all as unfeeling as the Night Elves."

Nevaeh stood beside her, "Especially after you've earned our respect."

"Respect?" I said, amused, "Didn't you just say you hated humans?"

Nevaeh looked away, "You are the first human I've ever really met. And you're quite skilled, and very knowledgeable."

"And handsome," Lysandra added.

I could feel her fingers teasing my hair as Navaeh moved closer, her hips pressing against me. I looked in their glowing green eyes, yeah, it would be rude for me not to accept such gracious hosts. Putting my arms around their waists they led me towards the bed. I didn't have to do a thing, these two girls wanted to go all the way. Laying back on the silk sheets, they undid my armor and set my clothes aside in a neat pile. I watched as they undressed each other, Lysandra's form-fitting plate and Nevaeh's chainmail joining my own on the floor. Underneath, their clothing was mageweave, simple yet remarkably light and strong.

Nevaeh crawled behind me and rested my head in her lap. I looked up to see her pulling her top off, two perky elf tits swaying just above my face. She caressed behind my ears, her hands moving down to stroke my chest as Lysandra straddled my legs. Leaning over, she licked my growing cock. Slow and deliberate, her tongue slid along the underside, stopping every now and then to pump my shaft with her hand. It didn't take long for me to get hard, and after taking a moment to palm my sac, she scooted forward to tease it with her pussy.

Gently she slid my girth inside her. Lysandra felt quite a bit tighter than that night elf, Anya, almost uncomfortably so. Probably because she wasn't nearly seven feet tall. It took her a little maneuvering to get situated but when she was I could feel every move and twitch. I started bucking into her as Nevaeh leaned over me, grabbing one of my hands and bringing it up to her breast. I placed my other on Lysandra's thigh as she threw her head back, giving me a grand view. Her body bouncing along with mine, I decided to give these girls the royal treatment.

Charging up my holy power, I channeled a little in my hand. It softly glowed amidst the faint light of the magical lamps in the room. Both Nevaeh and Lysandra gazed at it longingly, but before I had a chance to do anything, Nevaeh grabbed it and began to suckle on my fingers. I could feel the magic drain away, like it was pulled right out of me. I tugged my hand away and sat up, "What was that?"

"Oh, I thought you were… I'm sorry," she said, "I haven't tapped any magic today."

"Tapped magic, what?"

The two girls looked at each other for a moment, "It's a remnant from after the Sunwell was destroyed," Lysandra said, "Our magical addiction requires us to absorb magic every so often."

"So, what, you feed off magic?"

The two of them looked a little uncomfortable, "more or less," she said.

Now things were starting to make sense; why the elves were having trouble, why they needed non-elven advice. I still didn't entirely understand, but I had two naked and slightly embarrassed women in my bed, it was a question that would have to wait until morning. Leaning back I pulled Nevaeh's mageweave pants down. She accommodated me and threw them by the side of the bed as Lysandra began to slowly build up steam again. I didn't want this little snafu to ruin a perfectly good evening, hell, I might actually be able to use it to my advantage.

Doing what she could to keep me happy, I could tell Nevaeh was rather jealous of her superior, so I decided to give her a treat. Charging my magic again, I began to finger her, my Light-filled hand tingling in her pussy, sending her into ecstasy with every stroke. Her body started sucking the magic out of me again, I could only assume it was by reflex but it wasn't strong enough to bother me. Hah, now Lysandra was jealous. She watched with a bit of a scowl as her subordinate writhed and moaned aloud. Nevaeh sprawled beside me, letting me feel her over as Lysandra still kept riding my cock, getting more vigorous as she watched.

"I… Oh, Jack!" she gasped through sharp breathes. I could feel her body shudder as she gripped the sheets, tense and squirming. My glowing hand stroked the lips of Nevaeh's pussy as she did. Eventually I pulled away; her magical draw was getting to be too much. As I left her protege panting on the bed, Lysandra fell on my chest, her pussy pulling and tugging my cock. Wrapping her arms around me, she buried my face in her long, gorgeous blonde locks. I could feel her teeth on my neck as she clenched my hips with her legs. I grabbed her ass with one hand and threw my other across her back, tugging her hair.

Spreading my legs a bit, I rolled her over. She clenched me against her hips with her legs, refusing to let me out. I drove into her pussy as I reached my peak, plowing through her orgasm, my thighs slapping her ass every time. Eyes shut, body tensed, and toes curled, I let out a weakened moan as my cum raced into her welcoming vagina. It wasn't until I finished that I looked down to see the same exhausted, happy expression on her face. Sluggishly I pulled myself out of her, thoroughly done.

Rolling over, I took a deep breath as both of the elven ladies leaned against me. Aw yeah, this was the life. Easy work, all the luxuries a man could ask for, loose elf girls, and… and, huh. My brow furrowed, something still didn't feel right. I could feel a disturbance, like a troubling breeze at the back of your mind. Looking over at the two girls nuzzling me, I felt slightly better. There might be hope yet for these elves.

A full night's sleep later, it was time for my third lecture. The morning was uneventful as Lysandra, Nevaeh, and I prepared for the gathering, but on the way to the Bazaar I reviewed my notes again. Pulling a few out here and there, I decided I needed to make a few modifications. These elves had problems the Silver Hand couldn't anticipate and they needed to be addressed. Lysandra took her place near the podium as Nevaeh fell into the ranks of the initiates as though nothing happened. I looked on at those assembled in the open lawn, the arcane crystals behind them signifying much more than simple adornments now. I don't know how I didn't see it sooner.

For my lecture I discussed the use of the Light as a tool, how to channel it, and how veneration of the Light helps make it manifest. All the elves in attendance took notes, this was exactly what they needed. Questions flowed like so much elven wine as one after another asked how they might better apply the tenets of the Light. Heh, I might just turn these stuffed shirts into proper soldiers of the Light yet.

The training session after was different. Whereas before I was paired with an initiate, this time the elves had be square off with one of their veterans. He was a formidable man, his face marked with the scars of the Third War and possibly even the Second War. The armor he wore was beautiful but chipped and mended several times over. I could tell from the start he meant business. As we traded blows he nearly put me on my ass.

Reeling from one of his attacks I shouted, "Hey, take it easy!"

"What's the matter, human, can't take what you dish out?" he replied. Another blow landed on my shield, the dwarven steel causing his enchanted blade to spray magical sparks. A number of initiates stopped their rudiments to watch us as I righted myself. If this elf wanted to create a spectacle, I would oblige him.

Straightening up I said, "Alright, gloves off, paladin." I pulled my hammer back for a wind-up, just like I had with the initiate, but he sprang forth and put his blade right between my shield and my belt. I felt the tempered mithril pry my chain links apart as I doubled back. Swipes and stabs came at me as he cleaved against my shield, occasionally getting a blow in at my softer armor underneath. I stepped back, waiting for a break in his flurry.

As he began another combo I pushed forward, pressing my shield against his blade. He backed off, giving me a chance to right myself. The initiates murmured to themselves as we squared off again. The paladin began channeling the Light and unleashed his judgment on me. I felt the sweltering heat envelop my body, burning with holy fire. I swung my hammer, missing the elf by a mile as he deftly parried, his magic blade slicing through the chain on my chest like so much tinfoil.

The paladin landed beside me and I gave him a short kick. He backed off but immediately countered with another glancing blow to my armor. It sliced through, wounding me yet again. This was not a winning strategy for me, and where was Lysandra? No, I thought, I don't need to be bailed out against some fruity elf. Hunkering down behind my dwarven targe, I readied my hammer, taking a soldier's stance I'd seen the dwarves use.

The elf tried to get through my defenses but I blocked him at every turn. Between the well-crafted shield and my ability to soak what few hits got through with my blessings of protection, his efforts made little progress. The initiates by now had given up on their own studies and were thoroughly engrossed in the battle, taking wagers on who would walk away from the fight.

"Too afraid to fight, are you?" the paladin said. He swung at me once more, the attack simply glancing off like the others.

I wasn't afraid, I was waiting. This elf obviously never fought a human before. He was skilled, that was for sure, and he had a certain finesse to his moves, but as blow after blow failed to topple me I could see he was wearing down. These elves had no endurance. He charged me again, this time telegraphing his moves. It was time.

Letting out a cry I lunged forward, pressing him against my shield. The paladin tried to jump back but it was too late, he was already off balance. He fell to the ground and I followed through with my hammer, smashing his shield full force. The dent it left was glowing with holy magic and it left him squirming to get to his feet. I laid into him again and again, pounding him into submission. Then my hammer stopped, glancing uselessly off a magical barrier. He'd thrown in the towel.

Carefully the paladin got to his feet, enveloped in his divine protection. Whoops, sneers, and hollers were heard among the initiates. His shield was battered, and aside from looking downright exhausted he seemed to be alright. I on the other hand was still bleeding through my chain links. Winding up a healing spell, he unleashed a flash of light on me. Wounds healed and his spell dissipating, we shook hands.

"That was one hell of a fight, what's your name?" I asked him.

"Sir Patton," he replied, "That's quite an arm you have."

I pointed towards my magical helm Sir Pallen had given me, the gem in it glowing faintly, "I had a little help."

I felt a tug at my arm, Lysandra finally decided to show up. "That was quite an impressive display," she said.

"You thought so?" I replied.

"Yes, your ability to get hit over and over until your opponent gets too tired to fight, I'm sure it has served you well."

"Watch your tongue, Sir Dawnsworn," Sir Patton said, "This human is clearly no stranger to battle."

Lysandra looked offended, "Pardon me, paladin, I was just-"

He pointed at her, "I would like to see you take so many wounds and have the discipline to hold your form in combat."

"I'm sorry, Sir Patton." Lysandra's gaze fell.

"Enough of this," he turned to the crowd of looky-loos, "Training is over for today, you are dismissed."

The initiates and other paladins began to disperse, settling their bets between themselves as they went. I began to follow Sir Patton back to the Farstrider Square, Lysandra walking along behind us.

"You seem like you've seen your share of adventures," he said to me as we strolled, "Mind telling me what one such as yourself is doing lecturing to a bunch of initiates?"

"The Silver Hand thought I'd be the best for the job," I replied. I wasn't really sure I wanted to tell them just how much I worked with the Horde in the past.

"I've never accused the Silver Hand of having good sense, but I'm glad to see they get things right once in a while." He motioned towards the mage towers in the distance, "I try to drill these trainees as soldiers but they would have me coddle them like acolytes."

I nodded in agreement, "I can tell, they all fight like healers."

"Exactly," he said. We stopped short of the Farstrider quarters. "Sir Abrams, it was a pleasure."

"The pleasure was all mine, and please, call me Jack."

He saluted me, "Shorel'aran."

I saluted back and he went inside, leaving me and Lysandra standing in the square. I looked at her, she'd been silent nearly the entire time.

"I suppose you'll be saying good evening as well?" I said.

She shifted uncomfortably, "I suppose so."

"Okay, you take it easy."

"Wait," she said as I turned to leave, "You can't wander the city alone."

"I'm going right back to the inn."

Lysandra took a few steps closer, "It doesn't matter, you still need an escort."

I shook my head, "Alright, accompany me if you must."

The elf stood beside me, staring at me with those big emerald eyes of hers. She ran her fingers through her golden locks, tucking them behind her ear, "Oh, I think I must."

This again? I wasn't going to say no but I didn't get her fascination. Were humans some kind of exotic fuck in these parts? Hah, humans exotic to elves, perspective is a wonderful thing. Maybe she was just another one of the perks of working here. Strange it would be a paladin doing the "escorting" but I guess that keeps it inconspicuous. Either way, I put an arm around her and started towards the Exchange.

The sun was setting as we got to the inn and I was getting hungry. "You want to get food first?" I asked as we walked inside.

"Sure," she replied, "You go ahead, I'll bring some up."

I smiled and walked up the stairs to my room. The bed was made, the bath drawn, and all the refreshments from before were waiting. I guess I didn't really notice before. Then again I was a little distracted by two armfuls of sexy elf ass. I pulled off my armor and had a look at the damage Sir Patton did. He was one hell of a warrior, I felt bad for him. I was just here for a week, he had to deal with these pansies day in and day out. My wounds were all healed but they were still kind of tender so I jumped in the bath. God did that warm water feel good on my aching body.

At some point I must have passed out while relaxing, because when I came to I found Lysandra standing over me, wearing nothing but a nightgown and holding a plate of roasted boar. Wait, where did she get a nightgown? Was I out that long?

"Sorry to wake you," she said, kneeling beside me, "but I didn't want the food to get cold."

Pulling myself out of the tub, she pushed me back in with a smirk. Slowly she undid the strap on the front of her nightgown and slid it off. She stepped in the porcelain tub, straddling me and pressing my back against the wall. As she moved in to kiss me I put my hand up, pushing her away. Then I reached around and grabbed a hunk of boar meat. I was hungry.

"Oh, come on," she said, staring at the hunk of meat hanging from my mouth.

Chewing, I said, "I haffnt eamn aww day."

She pulled the plate away, "I got something you can eat out, hun."

I could feel her rubbing her pussy against me. I swallowed my mouthful, "Okay, toots, but you have to wait till I'm finished."

"Oh really…" Her arms went around my neck as she moved closer.

"Yeah, really." I pulled the plate back and stuck another piece in my mouth.

Lysandra laughed, "Come on, Jack."

"You weren't the one who nearly got skewered today," I said between bites. I swallowed my food, but before I could get anymore she shoved her tits in my face. There are times for playful sex, but you don't get between a hungry paladin and his meal, especially when he's had one hell of a day, and especially if you're an elf.

"That's it," I said, pushing her off, "get outta here."

"What?"

"Nope, you've lost tub privileges."

She looked cross but didn't argue. I got out of the tub, threw on a towel, and finished eating. She dried off and tried to make herself comfortable, staring at me the entire time.

"You know," she said as I finished my meal, "I don't think I've ever met someone like you before."

"Humans aren't common around these parts," I replied. I don't know why I had to mention that so often, and to so many races. You'd think it would be self evident.

"No, not that. Your personality." She laid down on the bed, rolling over to face me, "It's like you couldn't care less what other people think, you just do what you do."

"You're sort of right," I said, "I don't care what elves think."

Her face soured, "Not any? Not even me."

Sighing, I leaned back in my chair, "It's a long story, but that aside I barely know you. Hell, I barely know why I'm out here at all." I set my plate down, "This whole thing feels like a dog and pony show."

Lysandra looked at me, lost in thought for a moment, before saying, "I'll tell you what. Tomorrow, you come with me and I'll show you why you're here. Maybe it will help you realize just how important understanding the Light is for us."

I gave her a puzzled look and said, "Alright, but why wasn't I shown this before?"

"You'll see why tomorrow," she said, quite a bit more grounded now, "Now come over here." 


	3. Chapter 3

Content that I would get my answers tomorrow, I gave Lysandra a grin and moved over to the bed. She removed my towel and pulled me on top of her, smiling as I crawled over her naked body. I leaned in to kiss her lips, my hands getting tangled in her hair as I did. I was sore, tired, full, and a little chilly. This wasn't a night for hot, elf-pussy-destroying porking. It was a night for slow and easy sex. Pulling her hips closer, I parted the lips of her vagina with my tip. Lysandra moaned as I got to work, obviously faking it, but I wasn't in the mood to impress.

Maybe it was my old-fashioned sensibilities, but to me, some things in life are hallmarks. They're standards by which everything else is measured. They're familiar and remind you of a simpler time, of a place you can return to whenever you want. Such things keep you grounded in a world where everything is always shifting. Some people enjoy raunchy fetishes, always craving something extreme or novel to keep their interest, and while I'm no stranger to the exotic, that wasn't me. You need something to remind you of the good times, something you can reflect on not because of what was done, but why, and who it was with. It's camping under the stars, eating a home-cooked meal, and taking a pretty girl down for a few good minutes of missionary. That was what I needed this night. As I felt Lysandra squirm under me, I kept an even pace as my dick sank deeper into her wet snatch.

Her fingers clawed my back, "Oh god, you're in so deep!"

I wasn't so deep, balls deep, in deep, or any kind of deep. This was outright fabrication on her part and uncreative at that. Every girl at the Lion's Pride said the exact same thing, which I guess meant she was coming off as a prostitute. This made the ensuing sex slightly less comfortable. I continued nonetheless, my hips grinding between her thighs. I grabbed one of her breasts with my hand and suckled on her nipple a bit, she did have gorgeous breasts.

"Baby, mmm, oh that's so good!" she said as I kissed her tits. The falsehoods just kept coming. This bed was a strange facsimile of this city, lies and slander hidden behind the veneer of beauty and kind words. I was paying more attention to my own internal monologue than I was the woman in this bed. There must be something wrong with me, I thought, but frankly I didn't care. Lysandra was no Anya, and she sure as hell was no Syndra. I kept going, deciding to finish this before it got any more weird or uncomfortable. By the time I was nearing my climax I felt less like I was fucking a beautiful woman and more like I was feeding a piece of rope through a pipe.

"I think… I-I'm gonna cum!" she cried, her body shaking a disingenuous way. When a girl orgasms, it is the definition of ecstasy, she looks like she is on another planet. Her body tremors with pure pleasure as she grips onto your back for dear life, begging for every single thrust. This looked like Tourette's. I pushed harder, watching her tits bounce in time with my thrusts. Finally I leaned over, body tense, and came. I hadn't even built up a full head of steam but she rocked her hips into me, coaxing it all out. She just didn't get it, not every night needed to be an event.

Casually I rolled off her, it was far from the best I'd had, but it got the job done. She curled up next to me, "Feel better?"

"Yeah," I said. The look in her eyes was genuine, even if the sex wasn't. She really did want me to have a good time. I pulled her closer and she snuggled with me, throwing the sheets over us. It didn't take long for either of us to fall asleep that night.

The next morning I was still a little sore from my tussle with Sir Patton but I shook it off. Lysandra was already dressed by the time I rolled out of bed, and after a quick breakfast she had me out the door. This time though we weren't headed for the Bazaar. Having the day off, she instead led me towards the gates of the city.

"Wait, this is outside the city?" I asked, "I'm not permitted to leave yet."

"It should be okay as long as I'm with you," she replied. I could tell there was some hesitation in her voice, the same kind of apprehension that she had when we strolled through Murder Row. Nevertheless she led me through the city gate, off the beaten path, and towards the countryside. Eversong Forest wasn't particularly dense, but I didn't like being this far from civilization in what was technically hostile territory. Lysandra must have sensed my nervousness because after walking a while in silence she turned to me, "It isn't a place we usually go," she admitted, "at least, not willingly."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see, we're almost there."

We climbed a hill that overlooked an area about a mile or so away from the city. Below were the hovels of… it was difficult to describe what they were exactly. They looked like elves but were misshapen. Their slender frames were emaciated so they appeared as shambling skeletons. Deathly pale skin clung to their bones and their sullen eyes were recessed. Each of them meandered almost blindly, desperately trying to absorb whatever magic it could from the surrounding area, leaving this part of the Eversong Woods a dull and dead place. I turned to Lysandra, thoroughly disgusted, "What are these things?"

"They're Wretched," she said.

"Yeah, but what are they?" I asked.

"Wretched, it's what we call them. They are what happens to a Blood Elf when they lose control of their magical addiction."

"So wait," I said, turning to look at the creatures again, "Those used to be elves?"

"They still are, technically, although no one really considers them such. They're practically mindless, driven by their cravings for magic."

"I still don't get it," I said, staring at them, "If the elves are addicted to magic, and it turns them into this... why all the mana crystals?"

Lysandra shook her head, "It's a two-way street. If we're deprived magic too long, we succumb to this insanity. The hunger for magical energy takes control, destroying our minds."

"And if you have too much..." I started.

"...the same thing happens," she said.

It still didn't make sense to me, "How does it affect all Blood Elves?" I asked, "Many of you weren't even alive when the Sunwell was destroyed."

"It's inherent in our essence, a racial addiction. We evolved around magic." Lysandra's gaze shifted out over the helpless creatures, "Even those who never saw the Sunwell suffer from it."

"The sins of our fathers."

With a dark expression she looked at me, "It is a tenuous path each of us walks, Jack. That is why we need to control the Light again. My people need its magic to survive, whatever the cost."

"I can see that now," I replied. I honestly had no idea the elves were this bad off. Their lives depended on not giving in to a constant temptation to drain more than their share of magic, but at the same time not starve their addiction. No wonder they were so callous towards those who weren't able to control themselves. It reminded them of what they would become, what they struggled with every day.

As we walked back from the Wretched hovels, I began reconsidering my view on the Blood Elves. Perhaps I was being too harsh on them, they'd done everything they could to make me feel comfortable here and they genuinely wanted to learn about the Light. Sure, they still despised humans for the most part, but could I blame them? Look what we did to the High Elves during the Third War.

When we returned to the city I had Lysandra drop me off at my room. Although she stopped by periodically to make sure I was alright, I didn't leave all day. Pulling up a chair, I began to look over my lecture notes for the next morning. The Silver Hand wanted me to discuss things like charity and chivalry, but that was going to change. Carefully I considered everything I'd learned, all the hints and innuendos about their trouble channeling the Light, and I began to write one from scratch. It wasn't easy covering all the bases with such fresh inductees but by the time I was finished I had a primer that would, with some luck, finish rounding off the education these elves so sorely needed.

Lysandra entered the room that evening as I laid my pen down, rubbing my eyes with my hand. She walked up behind me and massaged my shoulders a bit, "Are you still working?"

"It's almost done," I said, looking over what I had so far. It was missing most of the structure a formal lecture would have, and all observance to tradition and ceremony took a back seat to prudent implementation, but it was all there. Everything they would need to channel the Light for themselves, even if their faith had waned this far.

"Jack," she said, pushing my notes away from me, "there's something else you should probably know about the paladins here."

"What is it?" I asked, only half listening. My mind was still buzzing with my lecture.

"The Blood Knights haven't been entirely honest with you," she said. "It has to do with how we channel the Light."

"Oh, that," I said, "It's a lot like arcane magic, right?"

"Well, yes, but it isn't that simple."

"Don't worry, I've seen how the paladins cast it so I have some idea how it works." I held up my notes, "Hopefully what I go over tomorrow will help."

A pained expression crossed her face, "No, there's something else I need to show you."

Seeing as how I'd left the city once already and spent all day pouring over my notes, I wasn't really in the mood for another trek. With a sigh I asked, "Can it wait until tomorrow?"

Lysandra looked at me with nervous tension for a moment but nodded, "Yes, that would probably be better."

"Okay," I stood up and stretched a bit, "I think I'm going to turn in early tonight."

"Do you want company?" she asked. Not in her usual flirtatious way either. It was like she genuinely just wanted to spend the night with me.

"Sure," I replied.

After stripping down for bed, we snuggled under the covers. Lysandra fell asleep pretty quickly but even though I was tired I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking of those hideous creatures just outside the walls. It reminded me of Stormwind with the gnoll and kobold infestations, except those were mundane creatures, almost animals. These Wretched were more sinister. Monsters of their own creation, phantoms that resembled the worst of what elves could become, lingering on to remind them of their own cursed existence. Kinda like my ex-wife. Somehow, I had to help them. Eventually though my exhaustion took over and I got some sleep.

That morning I got myself ready and headed back to the Bazaar. My new notes were organized and ready to go but Lysandra still wanted to show me something. Apparently it was in Farstrider Square, although I never noticed anything out of the ordinary there myself. I declined, mentioning that I needed to present my lecture first. It was only after promising to see whatever it was she wanted to show me right after that Lysandra agreed to escort me to the Bazaar. She was getting persistent about this.

My lecture this time went better than I could have hoped. All the paladins in attendance were rapt with attention as I tried to explain in simple terms how specifically to exploit the Light in order to stave off their magical addiction. The initiates took notice too, although their grasp of the material was a bit lacking, it did allow them to tap into the holy magic further than they already could. By the end of the lecture, and after a few demonstrations, it appeared I'd broken through. A couple paladins tried the new techniques for themselves as the assembly dispersed, pleased with their new level of control.

When I finished speaking, Sir Patton came forward to talk with me. "Sir Abrams, or should I say Jack, that was a fine lecture today," he said, shaking my hand.

"Well, Lysandra inspired it," I said, motioning towards her.

"Ahh, Sir Dawnsworn, I knew pairing you with the human would prove fruitful!"

Lysandra ran her hand through her hair awkwardly, "Yes, sir."

"Anyway," he said, turning back to me, "Jack, I have a proposition for you."

"Go on," I said.

Sir Patton beckoned me to follow him towards Farstrider Square. "Your knowledge of the Light and skill in battle can't be questioned; it is obvious you and your Knights of the Silver Hand have much to teach us. How would you feel about a permanent garrison here?"

I had a feeling something like this was coming, a contract extension or an annual speaking event perhaps, but a permanent position? I looked at Lysandra, she seemed just as surprised as I was. "I'm sorry," I said, "I'm flattered, but I'm afraid living in this city is a few paygrades above what I can afford."

"Your salary will match your rank, of course," he said.

"But I have allegiance to the Silver Hand, I can't simply sign on with the Blood Knights."

"Oh, I wouldn't think of it," he said, "Your affiliation with the Silver Hand would help keep ties with the Alliance open."

I gave him a confused look, "I thought your people were allying with the Horde."

"We are, unfortunately, but believe me when I say that many in the city aren't entirely comfortable with that decision. We would like to remain amicable with the Alliance, or at least have more diplomatic channels."

"I see," I said, the Silver Hand would certainly be happy about that. I thought about what this could mean, a chance to live in this lavish city as a real citizen. A chance to afford everything I could possibly want. No more contract work, no more traveling around, and no more derision from the other paladins. I would be a respected, no, a prestigious paladin. This was all gravy, my ship had finally come in! Plus, it would give me the chance to settle down, maybe start a family. I turned to Lysandra, she still seemed shocked but not entirely happy either.

"Well, what do you say?" Sir Patton asked.

"It sounds fantastic," I said, "I'll have to discuss the arrangement with my superiors, but I don't see there being any issues."

"Wonderful!" he said, stopping in the middle of the Square, "I will begin getting things ready for the transfer on my end, if you need me for anything, just send word."

"Of course, thank you, Sir Patton."

A quick salute was exchanged and he set off for the barracks. Lysandra pulled me aside for a moment once he was out of earshot, "Jack, are you serious?"

"Of course, this is amazing! I mean, I'm going to get to LIVE HERE!" I said, unable to contain my excitement.

She shook her head, a smile crossing her face, "I'm looking forward to it."

"Oh yeah," I asked, putting an arm around her waist, "you didn't think you were going to get rid of me that easy."

"No way," she said, wrapping her arms around my neck. She pulled me in for a kiss.

I lifted her off her feet a bit, smooching her before putting her down. "Now, what was it you wanted to show me that was so important?"

Her expression sank and for a moment it looked like she didn't know how to respond. "I um," she sighed, "It's something you need to see."

"Yeah? You don't seem so thrilled about it."

Lysandra rested her forehead on her fingertips, "We-I can't keep it from you anymore. It's just something you have to see for yourself." She looked sadder, "Follow me inside, please."

Straightening up, I did just that. The barracks wasn't off limits but as went further in I got the feeling I wasn't supposed to be in this part of the Farstrider's quarters. Around every corner of the barracks Lysandra peeked about, checking to make sure no one passing through was a superior officer or someone that might land her in trouble. We proceeded downwards, following a winding path of open corridors that lead to the veteran's barracks. She stopped at the entrance to their common hall. Opening the door I couldn't believe my eyes.

Half a dozen elf mages stood in a circle, casting binding magic upon an enormous illuminated being. Holy magic radiated from it like a torrent as paladins I recognized from the square walked leisurely about the hall, occasionally tapping the creature's energy like a mana crystal. Although I did not know what this creature was, I could tell it was incredibly powerful. The Light it emanated carried a feeling of goodness but also much pain. I could feel it scratching at the back of my mind, desperately trying to tell me something, and though it could not speak through its magical chains I could sense it from the distorted holy magic it gave off. This creature, if it could even be called such, was the true source of the elves holy magic.

I pulled Lysandra back around the corner, "What… in the Light's holy name is that?" I asked, my jaw on the floor. "It looks like a giant floating chandelier!"

"It is called a Naaru. They're beings of Light, we captured this one when the Dark Portal opened," she explained, "Its magic helped us to defeat Scourge and reclaim our home."

"It helped!?" I said incredulously, "Or you forced it?"

"It's not that simple, Jack."

"Really?" I said, "Because it looks to me like you're keeping this creature as a prisoner."

"We're using it to rediscover the ways of the Light!" she said. "We know this isn't a permanent solution, that's why we came to the Silver Hand."

"And just happened to leave this little detail out when you did of course. That thing is going to be drained to death by the time your people are through with it."

Lysandra shook her head, "You have to understand, without the holy magic this Naaru gives us our homeland would be overrun with undead, so many more of our people would have died-"

"And that makes it right? That makes keeping a holy creature as a thrall okay?"

"It was our only choice!"

"You lied to me," I said, approaching her, "You told me you needed my help to focus your magic but what you really wanted was to learn how to dominate this creature."

"No, that is not true," she said, not budging.

I stopped myself before I did something I was going to regret. I couldn't make a scene and risk alerting the other elves. Taking a moment to collect myself, I muttered, "The Silver Hand is going to raise hell when they hear about this."

Lysandra's eyes widened, "You can't tell them, please, Jack!"

"Not even the Horde will accept you once they find you've been channeling magic from a chained Naaru," I said, ferocity in my eyes, "And when the Cathedral hears about this, there will be such a crusade against Silvermoon you might just fall to your knees and truly pray for the first time in your life."

I could see the fear in her eyes, her voice began to quiver, "Jack, you can't tell them!"

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't."

She placed her hands on my shoulders, "Because if you do my entire people are going to die, or worse."

"And for what you're doing," I gestured to the enormous purple creature in the other room, "You don't think you've brought this on yourselves? The Sunwell wasn't enough, you had to bring this on your heads as well?"

"This creature is our salvation," she said, "How can you not see that?"

I glared at her, the righteous fury burning my insides to blackened coal. Her entire race depended on mastery of the Light, mastery which was being relearned through the torture of a powerful but innocent being. There was no way I could ignore such a crime. But I couldn't believe every Blood Elf was in on this either, considering how secretive and secluded it was. If I told the Silver Hand about this the Blood Elf lands would be shattered to pieces, their kind would be extinct in a generation. If I did nothing, this creature would continue to suffer for god knows how long. The indecision tore away at me.

"What made you show me this," I asked, still desperately trying not to lash out. "What made you think this was a good idea?"

"I never said it was a good idea," Lysandra replied, "But you deserved to know, to see the whole picture."

"Why though?"

"Because… it was the right thing to do." I stopped my soon-to-be-tirade and let her continue, "I couldn't let you go on teaching us without knowing the cost." She took a step away from me, "I'm not proud of what we've done, but it saved my people, and those are the ones I'm sworn to protect no matter the price. You're sworn to defend the Light. You had to know."

I paused, the right thing to do? There was no right thing to do here. I could either condemn an entire race to die for the sins of a few, or allow them to continue to torture this Naaru. Maybe I could fight them myself, but what good would one paladin be against so many? I'm not lawful stupid.

"Jack, no one here was ever asking you to help keep this Naaru captive, just the opposite," she said, "If we can learn to channel the Light by faith alone we won't need it anymore. That's why we brought you here in the first place."

I shook my head, "I cannot be a part of this."

"You already are," she replied.

Her words struck me like daggers. Until this point I'd been an unknowing pawn, now the veil was lifted and I had a decision to make. And yet, ironically, I knew there was no choice at all. Even in my righteous indignation I was never going to tell the Silver Hand about this, I couldn't have the blood of an entire race on my hands. I also knew I was never going to set foot in Silvermoon again. The guilt clawed my heart, I couldn't return to the Knights after this either. The entire time I stood there deliberating I could feel the Naaru crying for me to do something, anything. Staring at it longingly, I removed my helmet, running my hands through my hair. I turned my back, walking back up the corridor, feeling the creature's sadness wash over me. "Take me to the gates, Lysandra," I said, "I need to leave."

She drew back, "Does this mean you are going to tell the Silver Hand?"

"Nothing I've seen will leave this room," I said, not looking at her.

I could hear her breathe a sigh of relief, "Thank you, Jack."

"It's Abrams," I replied, "Now take me away from this place."

Lysandra paused for a moment, then motioned for me to follow her. I didn't say a word as we walked I didn't even bothering to collect my payment. As we left the city, my escort waited until we were clear of the guards to break it off. "I'm sorry to see you go, Sir Abrams," she said to me as we parted.

There was sincerity in her voice I didn't expect. Her bringing me to the Naaru to begin with, that implied more character than I felt from any of the other elves. This girl might occasionally be a nitwit but there was still a conscience under that veneer. She honestly felt she was doing what was best for her people. Sir Patton too for that matter. For all his incredulity he seemed to be hell bent on creating proper paladins. Maybe my lessons would be used for good when all is said and done but my cynicism was too strong to believe it. Nonetheless, I turned to her before leaving, "Think carefully about what you're doing, Sir Dawnsworn."

"I have," she said, voice strong, "Your assistance to my people will never be forgotten."

I winced at those words.

She must have seen my reaction because her face softened. There was no malice between us, but the distance was vaster than the Thousand Needles. "Goodbye, Sir Abrams," she said.

"Sir Dawnsworn," I replied.

She turned and headed back towards the city as I marched south, away from the elven lands for good. 


End file.
